On a single Tuesday: six bursts of rain, one
downpour of hail, three brief sunbreaks, ongoing gusts of tepid breeze, two
stable hours (not in a row) of light gray cloud cover, and
I went to the dinnertime window to admire
the textures and colors of new red leaves and vivid green moss covering the
limbs of two neighborly trees that were standing against the deep charcoal sky
and yellowing air,
smiling at the beauty, pausing to breathe
and inhale, feeling gratitude swell in my hungry guts,
when – like a gift-wrapped present on a humdrum
day, or a loan of a book from a caring friend, or the kind hello from a
stranger entering my exit –
one rainbow – so arced, so wide, so
unexpected, so buoyant – seemed to grow out of one tree’s foliage, to rise up
and over the tall firs – apparently touching (and healing) the bruise of a sky
– and to plunge down across the forest
where perhaps that pot of gold really does
sit nestled under the bed in which the coyotes lay last night,
where perhaps that sacred promise of long
ago is unfurling its buds,
where perhaps all the ugly nuisances decompose
into rich soil fodder to nourish the season’s early growth
and on the rest of the days this week, add:
* one window-struck Easter junco who
rallies, wobbly – with two other juncos watching over him, before flying off
* the flicker drumming his bill against the
metal drainpipe
* a downy woodpecker drilling into the alder
for his afternoon fare
* a flock of swallows checking out a bird
house
* one fat crow pecking at something gruesome
on the ground
* the first casualty of the season:
light-blue robin egg cracked open on the asphalt, life potential smattered in
disappointment
* a soaring eagle
overhead: present as my client tells his story, absent as soon as the story
ends
* fresh-feathered robins,
gaily singing so so so loud in the morning, such a welcome pronouncement of a
blessed new day
* the chip, tu-weet, skaaaw, zzzzssss, lehluulelele…of avians unseeable
* a hawk with
fingerlike feathers spread across the azure sky.
One ordinary woman
observes the (mostly-) jubilant awakenings on a small patch of soil on Earth.
All blog images created & photographed by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted. Please circulate images with photo credit: "©2017 JenniferJWilhoit/TEALarbor stories. AllRightsReserved."